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+--- Thread: lost and found [open] (/showthread.php?tid=5332)
lost and found [open] - Quilyan - 02-04-2013
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But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
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Dark, light. Dark, light. The morning's sun barely penetrates the leaves of the Deep Forest as the painted stallion ambles through the trees. His pelt, half ivory and half gold, shines in the brief dappling rays before fading into a dull, lackluster illusion. He does not particularly like densely wooded areas here, as they lack the color and spirituality of home, and he cannot trust the inhabitants of this land as he could his own. Or, rather, as he thought he could trust his own. The silent correction is bitter, his mind filling with memories of rebellion and revolt. On he plods, and though he cannot hope to escape any foes he may come across here, he does not feel ill at ease. Irritable, perhaps, and sad - yes, above all else, the deposed prince is sad, overwhelmed by memories and emotions that he had not thought to allow to resurface. And yet, here they are, dancing behind his eyelids every time he blinks, playing in his lobes, though the surrounding area is silent. He thinks of his family; of his home; of the godswoods with their massive, many-colored trees; of the ease of life; of his would-be crown. He thinks of this and halts, overcome, closing violet eyes against the pain, pinning auds to cranium against the suffering. He is not sure which memory hurts him the most - no, that's not true. It is the loss of his family, for he knows that he did not do right by them while they remained by his side. He has discovered the rather interesting conundrum that is familial relations. When they are there with you, lecturing you, loving you, annoying you, caring for you, you take them for granted. You are not thankful for them. But when they are gone, ripped suddenly from your grasp, you are left hollow, riddled with the holes that were their places in your heart. You miss them, and you realize what you had. He opens his eyes. He could not tell you how he saw it, but he did - a small, pale ellipse basking in a single ray of light. He takes a step closer. It is vaguely amber and seems, almost to shimmer - though as he stares at it, it seemed to grow brighter, whiter - a trick of the sun, surely. He lowers his head, inspecting. The scent is foreign, and he lifts his maw again, twisting this way and that, looking for a sign of a parent, for he is sure that this is an egg. It is small, perhaps a quarter of his hoof, and he is afraid that here, on the forest floor, it will be broken before it ever has a chance to hatch. His thoughts now have diverted to how to help the little unborn hatchling, and later he might say that the creature inside saved him from the abyss of his thoughts. But for now, the egg is his focus. |
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